Like Fire
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: Kind of Season 5 spoilers but not really. Richard finds Isobel making her way up to the abbey after the fire.


**ellylilly-pmch: "You ask for it! A "missing scene" from the fire ending, the one I'd like to see in the episode: Isobel got to know about the fire at the Abbey, panicked, tried to reach the big house but met Richard along the street, who stopped her 'cause it's to dangerous. She broke down in worry, so Richard promised he'll go to her and tell what happened after he tended the one at the abbey. The rest is up to you ;) *smut smut smut*"**

**(I wish this was season five spoilers)**

He thought he could make out a figure moving in the dark on foot as he peddled hurriedly on his bicycle. Yes, could, a woman, in a long coat, with a rather flustered step. It looked like-…yes-…oh no! Perhaps she had heard and worried, or simply been unable to control that arrant curiosity of hers.

"Isobel!" he called out in the darkness, bringing the bicycle to a halt in the gravel beside her, "Where are you going?"

She turned towards him, and he did not miss the note of incredulity glinting in her eyes in spite of the darkness.

"Where you think I'm going?" she asked him, "I'm going to see if my grandson has made it out alive or not!"

She tried to hurry on, but Richard took hold of her hand, stopping her.

"Lady Mary got him out!" he told her quickly, "Isobel, listen to me," he spoke as clearly as he could, seeing how her eyes widened in surprise and relief, "I spoke to Lord Grantham on the telephone. I specifically asked about Master George and Miss Sybbie. Tom Branson went straight to the nursery to get them and gave them to Lady Mary. Lady Grantham only wants me to go up to the house because she thinks Lady Edith suffering from shock."

"George is alright?" she asked him, she was clutching his hand fit to burst now, and he was more than happy to let her.

"Yes," he told her firmly, "Everyone is alright. Even Lady Edith, I expect."

"Oh, thank God!" And suddenly, she had thrown her arms around him, overcome with relief, and was embracing him tightly. He held her in return, only partly mindful of the fact that he was still standing astride his bicycle, "I was so frightened," she told him, "I saw the smoke, and the fire engine go up. I knew it could only be the abbey. I had to know."

"I know, I know," he told her softly, "I know how you felt."

"That little boy is all I have left of Matthew," she told him softly, her voice beginning to shake.

He could see tears in her eyes.

"I know, Isobel," he told her gently.

She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his almost wildly. Her hand still held his tightly and it was as if she was seeking some further consolation from him. He gave it in the only way he could think of. His throat had stopped and he knew that words would fail him. Slowly, so she could see his intention, she could stop him if she wanted to, but she didn't she was reaching for him too, and their lips met, and his hands reached out for her and-… He let go of his bicycle.

There was an almighty crash and they sprang apart. There was a moment's silence, and they both burst out into giggles.

"I should get on up there," he told her, "Promise me you'll go back home?"

She opened her mouth to protest but he cut across her.

"It might be dangerous," he told her, "I think it's probably evident that I would never forgive myself if I allowed you to come to any harm."

It was dark, but he could have sworn he saw her blush. His bike now firmly on the floor, it did not matter that he reached both of his hands back out to take hers.

"I wouldn't object," he told her softly, but it's not even as if I can offer you a lift," he smiled at his fallen bicycle and she smiled too, "Go home. Keep safe, keep warm. And if you'll let me, I'll call on you on my way home and let you know how everyone is."

"Will you really?" she asked him.

"Of course," he replied, "It would be my pleasure."

He saw her smile, saw her lean forwards to kiss him again, welcomed both.

"I'll be waiting for you," she told him.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

And she was. With a glass of whiskey, and a large cold roast beef sandwich on the kitchen table for him, a fire in the grate.

"Bless you, Isobel Crawley," he murmured quietly, as he sank down into the chair.

Her hand stroked gently across his back before she sat down beside him. She let him eat and drink his fill before asking him any questions, and he appreciated it. He knew that, as ever, she would be keen to ask.

"How were they?" she asked him, "How was George?"

"George was asleep," he told her, "On Tom Branson's shoulder for most of the time I was there."

"Really?" she asked him.

"Yes," he replied, "Out like a little light, he was. And then they could go back into the house, and him and Sybbie were taken straight off to bed."

"Thank the Lord for that," she murmured softly, "And Edith?"

"A little shaky," he replied, "No lasting damage at all."

She gave a quiet sigh.

"Thank you for coming to tell me," she told him a moment later.

"Like I said before, it's my pleasure," he replied.

There was a moment's silence.

"Isobel," he murmured, not sure exactly how he should say what he wanted to, "When I saw you on the road-… I was frightened."

"Why?" she asked him.

He paused for a second, swallowed hard.

"Because I've seen you walk into danger before," he told her at last, thinking of the warm "And been unable to stop you. And I know what it did to me then-…"

She was watching him very carefully.

"I never come to any harm," she answered him after a moment.

"That's not to say you never will," he told her quietly, "And I don't mind admitting that that thought terrifies me."

She looked back at him, apparently unsure of what to say.

He took another deep breath.

"I love your bravery," he told her a moment later, "I love how you're afraid of no one and nothing. But, my god, it terrifies me sometimes as well."

There was a long moment's silence, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire in the grate.

"I love you, Richard."

She was leaning forwards for him, taking his face in her hands, kissing him again, and he was touching her too, as much of her as he could, running his hands over her shoulders and down her arms.

"Stay with me tonight," she whispered as their lips broke apart, gasping for breath, "Stay with me forever."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" she insisted, "Oh, god, yes, Richard. If only you knew how much."

He allowed her to pull him to his feet, take his hands and lead him up the stairs. He was not sure what it was that had suddenly rushed over them both. This warmth, this freedom. It filled his blood and he knew that she could feel it too. He knew he loved her, he always had loved her, always, and now, the relief, the safety, the knowledge that she loved him too, it was too much, it had all come welling out.

In her bedroom, she reached out for him again, pulled him towards her again, kissed him again. They fell back onto her bed, kissing. She was wearing her dressing gown and underneath it her nightdress, it was easy to divest her of her garments and soon she lay naked before him.

"Isobel," he murmured reverently, caressing her skin, kissing his way down her neck, "You're so beautiful."

She fumbled the shirt off his back, pressing her bare chest against his. He groaned, kissing further down her body.

"Let me," he murmured as his mouth lingered at her hips, "Let me do this for you."

His mouth moved lower, opening her, slipping his tongue between her folds and she was powerless to resist. He penetrated her with his tongue, sucked her clitoris, wrapped his arms around her to caress her behind. He made her writhe against him, made her climax hard, rocking against his mouth.

She held his hand in hers, taking each of his fingers into her mouth, sucking her juices from his fingers. It was his turn to give a loud groan. Like fire; a fire had started this, tonight, and now this was like fire as, naked now too, he rolled her onto her back and pushed as gently as he could into her heat. He could see her neck arching with pleasure, feel her so close to him as she pushed herself up to meet his body.

"I love you," he gasped as he moved inside her.

"Oh my darling," she gasped in reply, her hand clinging to his shoulder, "I love you too."

**End.**

**Please review if you have the time. **


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